Hair Care
by scarlett onyx
Summary: The Riddler has always been a bit proud. Ok, a LOT proud. So, what will he do when he finds that he seems to be going a bit...gray around the edges?
1. Chapter 1

**DISC.: I don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.**

For once, Jonathan Crane had slept well. He awoke slowly and stretched luxuriously as he did. Ah, today would be a good day, he could feel it. He'd just get up, make breakfast, and maybe take a walk. Then he'd have dinner at that quiet little diner a few blocks from the lair. Yes, today would be peaceful, nice, and…

"**!"**

A scream echoed down the hall.

Now normally, Jonathan, being the Master of Fear, liked screams. But he happened to recognize this one. It was coming from a ways down the hall, where the Riddler had been staying for a while after a long, nearly cataclysmic chase from the Batman.

Sighing, Jonathan got out of bed.

Eddie was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaking, and staring down at something in his palm, eyes wide. Jonathan sauntered up to him. "Alright, what's wrong?"

Eddie's eyes widened further still in horror as he stared at his hand.

"It's…it's…"

"It's what? Spit it out, Edward."

"It's…._GRAY HAIR!_" the Prince of Puzzles wailed.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and glanced down at the Riddler's palm. Three gray hairs lay across it.

"I'm getting oooold!" Eddie howled. He whirled towards Jonathan, shoving his hand in the taller man's face.

"LOOK AT IT!"

Jonathan pushed his hand back down. "I see it, I see it…just calm down. It's just a little gray hair. You're not going to die."

"Yet…" Eddie added mournfully. "They say the hair's the first to go."

The Master of Fear rolled his eyes again. "What about all the people that are prematurely bald?"

The Riddler blinked and lowered his hand slowly.

"You think…" he started softly, "…you think I'm…going BALD?"

The Scarecrow threw up his hands. "No! I just think you're overreacting. People lose hair all the time. Look…" he ran a hand through his hair. "See?" he asked, holding out his hand. Eddie stared at the few hairs that lay on it. Then he gasped. "It's happening to you, too!" The Master of Fear smacked his palm against his forehead and turned. "I'm going to make some breakfast."

"Oh, sure!" the Riddler called after him. "You go make some breakfast while I have one foot in the grave!"

Jonathan ignored him and sauntered into the kitchen.

The rest of the day went by as normal, or as normal as a day can go for a rogue. Eddie went out around noon and wasn't back until late. Jonathan smirked, assuming that the Riddler had gone out to mope about his untimely graying/hair loss. In Jonathan's opinion, nothing was wrong, it was just Eddie being…Eddie. So he went about his daily business and went to bed as usual. What awaited him in the morning would be anything but.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jonathan Crane awoke the next morning, the lair smelled horrible. Making a face, the Master of Fear pulled himself out of bed and stumbled to the door of his room. He opened it, and nearly gagged. The stench was even worse out here. It was as if someone had combined all of the worst-smelling chemicals in the world and mixed in rotten eggs for good measure. It was worse than the time Eddie had bought that cologne from that "certified French" street-vendor. And it was coming from down the hall.

Holding his nose, Jonathan stumbled toward its source. He pounded on the bathroom door. "Eddie? Eddie? Good Lord, man, what did you _eat_?" Suddenly the door burst open, revealing the Riddler, standing in all his glory (or in as much glory as someone can in silky green boxers), with a towel wrapped like a turban around his head.

"It is not what you think!" he announced. "For, I…" he whipped off his hair towel, "…am a new man!"

The Scarecrow's eyes went wide. "You…you…you…" he stuttered.

"…dyed my hair!" Eddie finished for him excitedly. "Doesn't it look great?"

Jonathan was inching slowly backwards. "What?" Eddie demanded. "The box _said_ it would match my color…"

Jonathan coughed. "Well…riddle me this, Eddie." he said, opting for a possibly gentle way to break the news, "If a stop sign and a stop light had a love-child, what would it look like?"

The Riddler's eyes widened.

Jonathan couldn't help it. He started to chuckle. Eddie whirled around and stomped in front of the mirror. "It's not that…**AUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHH!**"

His hair. His beautiful, luxurious hair! It was…it was…

"You know," Jonathan mused between chuckles, "you could always change your rogue name to 'Fire truck Man'."

For Edward Nygma's "luxurious" hair…was bright red.

"Now, Eddie, calm down. So you look like Rihanna. It's got to wash out sooner or later…"

"RUINED! MY HAIR IS RUINED! IT'S RED!"

The Riddler was storming around the lair, eyes wild, tearing at his newly colored hair.

"Eddie it's not that…" Jonathan began from his seat on the couch.

"I LOOK LIKE A FIRE-HYDRANT!"

"Well, than stay away from stray dogs!"

Eddie whirled on him. "THIS IS _NOT_ THE TIME FOR JOKES, JONATHAN!"

The Scarecrow muffled a laugh. "At _least_ sit down. This isn't going to get better by running around like a demented squirrel."

The Riddler's eye twitched slightly, making him look exactly like, you guessed it, a demented squirrel. With red hair.

Then he pulled open a drawer in the small storage cabinet on the wall and dug out an inhaler. He began puffing on it noisily.

"You have asthma?" Jonathan asked.

The Riddler glared at him indignantly. "I do not! It just…calms me down, that's all."

"You're wheezing."

"Am not!"

Eddie dropped the inhaler and ran to the phone.

"What are you doing, now?" Jonathan demanded, turning.

"I got to call Harley!" Eddie exclaimed. "She'll know what to do."

**A/N: **

**Harley says in the Animated Series that she isn't a real blonde and while there's some controversy over this, some people believe that she's actually a brunette. So she must know a thing or two about hair dye! **

**And Rihanna has (or at least she did) red hair.**

**Don't own the characters or Gotham.**


	3. Chapter 3

Where is she?

Shell be here any minute. Just calm down.

Any minute is too late! I need her to be here _now_.

Jonathan sighed. He really did wish that Harley would get here faster. Eddie was getting more jumpy by the minute. He wished hed just relax

Finally, there was a knock on the door.

The Riddler flew to it, flinging the door open without even looking in the peep-hole first. Harley Quin stood on the other side, holding a large cosmetic bag and grinning. The grin disappeared when she saw the Prince of Puzzles hair.

Eddie! she shrieked. What did you _do_?

The Riddler grimaced and quickly ran over the story again.

and I need _you_ to fix it! he finished in a rush. Harley blinked. ! Just sit down, and Ill get this stuff ready! She opened her bag and dumped it out, sending all sorts of cosmetic products rolling all over the floor. Harley began to dig through them, muttering to herself, a look of determination etched in her features. Jonathan watched her, one eyebrow raised. I hope youre going to clean that up. Harley looked up and blew a piece of blonde hair out of her face. Dont worry, Professah, Ill put it all back. she giggled, After all, wouldnt wantcha trippin on anything! She held up a bright pink tube. Death by lip gloss! The Master of Fear rolled his eyes. Very funny, just get whatever he put into his hair out before he hyperventilates. He motioned to the Riddler, who was obediently sitting on the couch, watching Harley with an anxious expression. Harley nodded. Sure! Scooping up a few brightly colored bottles, she bounced back up and began opening the containers and dumping their contents on the Riddlers head. He flinched. Stay still! Harley commanded. Ya dont wanna be stuck lookin like ya had an unfortunate accident paintin a barn, do ya?

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and went very still. Jonathan, lacking anything better to do, leaned up against a wall to watch. Ya know, Harley mused as she began scrubbing the various liquids into Eddies scalp, I had a problem like this once. The wrong color. I mean, the box _said_ blonde, but do you know what it was? _Orange!_ she exclaimed before anyone could answer her. Orange hair dye! I coulda died right then an there! Hehe, _dyed._ Get it? _Died _sounds like _dyed_. Anyway, Mista J got a kick out of it, so I spose it was okhand me that bottle, willya Jonny?

Jonathan handed her the bottle shed indicated and smirked. Eddies head looked like it had been engulfed by a puffy, red-tinged cotton ball.

Harley poured the last bottle out on the Riddlers hair, scrubbed a bit more, and then stood back to assess her work. Eddie still sat as still as a stone. Finally, Harley nodded and grabbed the towel Eddie had had on his hair earlier off the back of a nearby chair. She wound it around his head and then began to gather up the remaining things on the floor.

Thatsit? Eddie ventured cautiously. Itll be gone when I take the towel off?

I sure hope so! Harley replied. Dont touch that towel for a half hour. Then she trailed off.

Then what?

then Ill be back! she finished, a little _too_ brightly. It shoulda worked by then. And with that, Harley picked up her bag, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disc: don't own Harley, Eddie, or Jonathan**

Jonathan Crane was quite comfortable dozing on the couch when a screech shattered the stillness of the lair.

"IT'S BEEN A HALF AN HOUR!"

Nearly simultaneous with the Riddler's shout, the door to the lair flew open and Harley marched resolutely in.

"Sit!" she commanded Eddie.

He sat obediently and she walked up behind him.

With a small flourish, she whipped off the towel concealing his recently dyed locks and….

For a second the room was silent.

Then Jonathan burst out laughing.

Eddie bolted upright, eyes wide with panic. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Harley covered her mouth, her own eyes almost as wide as the Riddler's.

"Well, it's…less red…"

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Eddie darted to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

The resulting roar shook the few scientific apparatus on Jonathan's make-shift work table.

"**IT'S PINK! MY HAIR IS PINK! WHAT AM I GOING TO DOOOOO?"**

A test-tube fell over and rolled off the lab table.

"**!"** Eddie wailed.

Trying to regain some semblance of composure, Jonathan got up and went to down the hall. "Now, Eddie, calm down. I'm sure Harley's got something to get the rest out, right Harley?….Harley?"

Both men turned to the blonde.

She shrugged.

The Riddler howled like a wounded animal.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "You could always just shave it off."

Wrong thing to say.

"'**SHAVE IT OFF'? **_**'SHAVE IT OFF'**_**? ARE YOU INSANE? I'D LOOK LIKE A CUE-BALL! DO YOU THINK I **_**WANT**_** TO LOOK LIKE A CUE-BALL?"**

"Well, I've never really thought to ask…"

"**!"**

"Will both of you just shut up?" Harley demanded suddenly. "I might have one thing that'll still work…"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disc.: don't own Harley, Jonathan, or Eddie**

"Is it lighter yet?"

"No."

"…How about now?"

"No."

"….Now?"

"Eddie, _please_! Go to bed."

"But what if it's like this _forever_?"

The Master of Fear massaged his throbbing temples and turned to the Riddler. "Eddie…your hair is _not_ going to remain pink for all of time."

The Prince of Puzzles didn't look convinced. He tugged at a loose thread on his green pajama pants and made puppy-dog eyes at the Scarecrow. "It might…"

Jonathan was having none of it. "No, it will not. Now _go to bed_." The Riddler sighed and turned into his room. "Ok…but if it's like this tomorrow, I'm wearing my hat. All the time."

The Master of Fear sighed. "Good. Fine. Whatever. Just don't bother me, got it?"

"Ok…Jonathan?"

Sigh. "Yes?"

"What if it falls out?"

"What?"

"What if my hair falls out? Just _poof_! All gone. Just like that?"

Jonathan paused and turned slowly back to the Riddler.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

The Master of Fear considered this for a moment.

"Then….you'll be bald. Nighty-night."

And he went in his room and closed the door firmly behind him.

Eddie scowled. If he went bald, he'd tell everyone it was Jonathan's fault. Yeah. Jonathan had spilled some strange chemical on his head in the middle of the night or something. Hmph! 'Nighty-night', indeed.

?

Eddie woke up slowly, feeling like he wasn't breathing properly. Blindly, he cast around for his inhaler and opened his eyes. Something scraped across them and he shut them instantly. There was something itchy on his face. He rubbed at it. It felt like…hair.

THERE WAS SOMETHING HAIRY ON HIS FACE!

Leaping up, Eddie whipped his head back and forth, trying to get whatever it was off. But to his surprise, it just…swished around. Like it was…attached to him.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was just waking up. He'd actually slept well and he hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with a crazed Nygma today…

Suddenly, the Master of Fear's door slammed open.

"AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGHHHHH! GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!"

Jonathan just stared. What he saw looked like a reddish brown mop on top of a person. The mop obviously couldn't see because the body was stumbling around in a crazed dance of terror until the mop hit the wall. The body stood still, arms out as if testing the area. A hand bumped into Jonathan and leaped back as if burned. "Gahh!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Calm down. I just haven't put on a shirt yet." He looked closer at the mop and started to chuckle. The chuckling got louder until it turned into a full-bodied laugh. "You…you look like…Cousin It!" Jonathan snickered.

"Shut up!" the mop, formerly known as Eddie, shouted.

Jonathan started humming The Adam's Family theme song.

The mop growled, fueling the hilarity. "Look." Jonathan wheezed. "I don't know what Harley put in your hair, but it did the trick. The pink's grown out, see? It's just at the tips now. All we have to do is give you a little trim, and you're good to go!"

The Riddler backed away.

"Oh no. I am _not_ letting that clown have a go at my hair. Uh-uh. No way."

A slow smile spread across Jonathan's face. "I'll do it then."

"You sure?" Eddie asked.

"Of _course_. You just sit back and relax."

**a/n: Cousin It was a character that seemed to consist entirely of hair on the show "The Adam's Family"**


	6. Chapter 6

"_Jonathan?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Why won't you let me watch while you cut my hair?"_

"_Why ever would you need to? Don't you trust me?"_

"_Well…"_

_Edward Nygma was perched nervously on the edge of the couch cushions, biting his lower lip as he stared at the wall across the room. _

_Harley Quin watched from the corner, blue eyes wide with interest. _

"_Are ya sure ya know what you're doin', Proffesah?" she asked for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. _

"_Of course_ I do, child." Jonathan replied, shooting her an annoyed glance.

Snip.

Eddie fidgeted slightly.

Snip.

This wasn't making the Riddler too comfortable…

Snip. Snip. Snip.

"Will you stop squirming?" Jonathan demanded. "It's hard enough cutting this mop without you wriggling all over the place while I'm doing it."

"Sorry."

Snip. Snip. Snip.

The Riddler's mind was buzzing with questions. He tried to suppress them for a minute, before giving in and letting the words pour forth in a virtual deluge.

"How does it look? Does it look good? Do I look good? Are you cutting it right? Harley, is he cutting it right? Do I look handsome? Well, do I?"

Jonathan scowled. "Will you shut up? I'm trying to concentrate. All I have to do is cut a little off here, and here, and here, and…oops."

The Riddler's eyes shot wide.

"'Oops'? 'OOPS'? What happened? WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Shhh…" Jonathan said, silencing him. "It's fine. I just have to…modify it a bit. That's all. Yeah. Hold still."

Harley snickered.

The scissors snipped.

Jonathan hummed slightly to himself.

None of this made Eddie want to 'sit still'.

"Alright!" Jonathan said after a few minutes. "All done. Harley, could you…"

Harley nodded and grabbed a small hand mirror from a shelf near here, handing it to Eddie. "Here ya go!"

The Riddler looked into it cautiously.

"It looks good!" Harley encouraged hastily. "Very…modern."

Eddie's left eye twitched.

The pink was gone. His hair color was the same as it had always been.

But now it was a little longer. And…

"Shaggy." he whispered.

"You look younger!" Jonathan said cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder.

The Riddler blinked.

"I…I do?"

Jonathan and Harley both nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, very!"

Eddie stared at himself in the mirror, as a slow smile spread across his face.

"I _do_ look good, don't I?" he asked, turning his head from side to side. "I look…" he smirked and winked at his reflection, "…_sexy_."

Harley giggled.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Alright, Eddie, you can stop staring at yourself."

The Riddler nodded, dropping the mirror as his eyes widened. "You're right! How selfish of me! Keeping all this beauty to myself! Shame on me! I must share it with the world!" Leaping off the couch, he ran to the door and threw it open.

"I'm coming, world!"

Jonathan and Harley looked at each other in the silence that followed.

"Well," Harley said finally, "at least his mid-life crisis is over!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disc.: don't own jonathan, eddie, or gotham**

Jonathan Crane had thought that Eddie's "midlife crisis" was over.

He was wrong.

It had barely begun.

"Watsup, Duuude?"

"Wazzup."

"'Sup."

"Dude."

"Yo."

"Eddie, will you stop talking to your reflection? It's creepy!"

"Sorry, Bro. You mad?"

Jonathan smacked a hand against his face. The Riddler had been standing in front of the full-length mirror he'd put up in the living-room of the lair for most of the morning, practicing being 'cool'.

It was driving the Master of Fear up the wall.

Eddie winked at the mirror and turned, swaggering over to the couch and leaning over the back of it. "Watup, J.C.?"

Jonathan's eye twitched.

"Eddie." he said softly.

"I go by 'The Edster' now." the Riddler corrected him.

Jonathan closed his eyes and tried to think happy, non-murderous thoughts.

"You may call me Jonathan." he whispered, when he could speak again, "Or Jon. Or even Jonny. But you _will not_ call me '_J.C._' under _any_ circumstances, got it?"

"But it sounds _cooler_!" Eddie whined.

"No, it sounds stupid!" Jonathan shot back. "My _name_ is Jonathan. And I expect to be called such. And I refuse to call you 'Edster'."

Eddie stuck his lower lip out in a pout and frowned at the Master of Fear.

"Oh, _that's_ attractive." Jonathan sneered sarcastically. "I bet if you keep doing that, you'll get wrinkles."

Eddie's face straightened immediately.

"You think?" he asked nervously, opening his eyes very wide and trying to keep his forehead flat.

Jonathan smirked. "Yep."

**~A half hour later~**

"Eddie, I don't think your gonna get wrinkles…"

"Just do it."

"Well, ok…ya just hafta smear this stuff on your forehead…and put this on your cheeks. But ya gotta put this green goop all over your face first. Like this…"

When Jonathan Crane came home after a rather lengthy trip across town for some much-needed chemicals, he expected to find the Riddler moping about the possibility of wrinkles.

He did not expect to find Harley Quin in his living-room, applying some sort of slime to Eddie's face.

"And just _what_ do you think you are doing?" Jonathan demanded. Harley sniffed, readjusting the cucumber slices that adorned the Riddler's eyes. "It's _called_ a facial. Well… not technically. But this'll help the skin too. Eddie doesn't want wrinkles."

As if that explained everything.

Jonathan sighed. "Just…don't get whatever you're putting on his face on the couch."

X?X?X?X?X?X?X?X

Eddie's 'spa treatment' lasted most of the day, and Jonathan came upstairs from his lab to find the Riddler lying on the couch, wearing a bathrobe and reading a health magazine. A fluffy green towel adorned his head like a turban. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, vainly hoping that when he opened them again, he'd see Eddie slumped on the sofa, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and jeering at the contestants on some game show. But when he opened his eyes, the scene was the same. The Master of Fear sighed and stepped over an empty yogurt cup. "Did she give you a manicure too?" he asked sarcastically.

"No…" Eddie replied distractedly, "She said my nails looked fine."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm going to go get a pizza."

The Riddler's eyes shot wide as he dropped the magazine.

"What," Jonathan asked, "I can't eat pizza now?"

"Well, _I'm_ certainly not going to!" Eddie sniffed. "Do you know how many _carbs_ are in those things? I am _not_ going to get fat."

Jonathan massaged his temples. "Look at me Eddie. I eat pizza _all the time._ Do I look 'fat' to you?"

Eddie looked at the Master of Fear's scrawny form and raised an eyebrow.

"Well…alright. Maybe one piece. But that's _it_!"

The Scarecrow grabbed his wallet from the kitchen counter and headed for the door. He could only hope that Eddie's health kick wasn't going to last long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham**

Jonathan Crane bit into a slice of pizza, ignoring the Riddler's glare of disdain as he emptied what must have been his fifth yogurt cup.

"Give it a rest, Nygma." Jonathan mumbled through his mouthful. "I'm not giving up good food, whether you like it or not."

Eddie sniffed. "That is _hardly_ 'good food', Jonathan, and don't talk with your mouth full!"

"Yes, Mr. Manners."

"What did you call me?"

"Mr. Manners. And I shall continue to do so until you shut up."

The Riddler huffed and stood up. "Fine. Well _I_ am going to bed. I need my beauty sleep." Jonathan snorted and shoved more pizza in his mouth, just to annoy Eddie.

The Riddler stood up, sniffed again, and turned on his heel, striding out of the room.

X?X?X?X?X?X

Jonathan awoke once in the middle of the night, under the strong impression that he had heard something from the kitchen. He sat up, listening. He must have been sitting in the same position for five minutes, but nothing more reached his ears. Sighing, the Master of Fear flopped back down and rolled over. It was probably nothing in the first place.

X?X?X?X?X?X

The next morning, Jonathan stumbled to the kitchen, half-awake as usual. He wasn't much of a morning person and his mind was always one-track anytime before noon.

He wanted one thing and one thing only.

Coffee.

Running a spindly hand over the surface of the small counter, he searched for the small bag of coffee beans he always kept there. Sometimes just the solid feel and comforting aroma of the beans was enough to bring him a little ways out of his morning fog.

But not today.

Because today, his fingers met nothing but the wall behind the counter.

Forcing his tired eyes open a bit wider, the Master of Fear groggily, but frantically searched the counter. _Where were they?_ He reached higher, opening cupboard after cupboard. Low-fat peanut butter, high-fiber cereal, granola bars, but _no coffee_!

_No…this couldn't be…_

_HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO LIVE?_

The Riddler was calmly applying a bit more green paint to his latest death-trap when his workshop door flew open, banging into the wall and nearly rattling off its hinges in the process.

The Master of Fear strode into the room, eyes blazing.

"Nygma, I want you to listen carefully, because I'm only going to ask this once." he hissed.

"Where. Is. My. COFFEE?"

The Riddler blinked up at him as if surprised that the Scarecrow had noticed his favorite morning drink was gone.

"Coffee's bad for you." Eddie said simply.

"What…I ….you…it…" Jonathan spluttered. "I NEED IT TO WAKE UP!"

Eddie smirked. "You look pretty awake to me."

Jonathan's breath was coming in pants now, his left eye twitching madly.

"You can read health magazines, you can get facials and even do your nails if you want, _I don't care_. But _this_ is where I draw the line. You can insult my pizza, Sir, but you _will not _take my coffee!"

The Master of Fear blinked and leaned against the doorframe, winded after his speech so early in the morning, it _was _only nine o'clock, and glared at the Riddler.

Eddie sighed. "Coffee is a drug, Jonathan. But since you are so addicted that even _I_ may not be able to help you, listen closely. Riddler me this…"

Jonathan had had enough. Leaning forward, he grabbed Eddie by his collar.

"Where. Is. It?"

"Top cupboard, behind the cereal." Eddie squeaked.

Dropping the Riddler, Jonathan stumbled back to the kitchen, his mind again on one-track.

Coffee.

X?X?X?X?X?X

Jonathan was sitting on the couch later that afternoon, reading a book on psychology. Eddie sat on a chair nearby, also reading. The Scarecrow could only see a little part of the title from where he was sitting. "Feng…" something. Dismissing it as rubbish, the Master of Fear set his book down and stood. "I have some errands to run." he announced. "I'll be back later." Eddie mumbled a reply without looking up. Jonathan shook his head and headed for the door. He could only hope the Riddler would still have his nose in his book when he returned.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disc: don't own Jonathan or Eddie or Gotham.**

Jonathan Crane was actually in a very good mood when he got home from his various errands around Gotham. Yes, he'd go inside, put the chemicals away, maybe have a light snack.

Of course, he should have known by now that that wasn't going to happen.

Jonathan pressed his ear against the door of the lair before unlocking it, trying to determine what Eddie might be up to before entering, so he'd be prepared.

Silence.

_Hmmm…maybe he's taking a nap…_

Readjusting the various items in his arms, Jonathan unlocked the door and strode in, ready for anything.

Or…that's what he was _going_ to do.

What _really_ happened was thus:

Jonathan unlocked the door and pushed it open, only to have it collide with something hard a few feet inward. Confused, the Master of Fear poked his head around the door and was promptly hit on the head by a rather large pot of bamboo which had apparently been teetering precariously on the edge of whatever the door had slammed into. Standing there, dirt covering his hair, packages sliding from his arms and bamboo jammed in his glasses, Jonathan did the only thing he could do.

"_**NYGMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"**_

The Riddler skidded into the room, wearing a green t-shirt that said "harmony" on it in bright letters. He took in the Master of Fear and gasped.

"You knocked over my bamboo!"

Jonathan's eye twitched. "It's a _plant_, Nygma!" Then his eyes widened as he looked past the Riddler.

"What did you _do!_"

Eddie sniffed. "It's _called_ Feng-Shui. Now will you please shut the door? You're letting in bad karma."

"I'LL GIVE YOU KARMA!" Jonathan howled.

The Riddler shook his head disapprovingly. "Tsk, tsk. Now see what you've done. You've upset the entire balance of the room. And you moved that desk, too. And knocked over the bamboo. There's bad chi all over the place!" Eddie waved his hands around as if to ward off the 'bad chi' and snatched the bamboo from the Scarecrow's head. Jonathan was making a conscious effort to calm himself down. Slowly, he stepped into the room and shut the door, trying to ignore the Riddler as he pushed the desk back into place and set the now some-what crumpled bamboo on top of it. The Master of Fear concentrated on taking deep breaths as he went to this lab. _Eddie would clean up the dirt, he'd just go into his lab until he'd calm down and then he'd go take a shower. Yeah. Just take deep, calming breaths and…_"AUGH!"

The Master of Fear's left eye was twitching spastically now as he took in the scene before him. His lab had been…rearranged. Tampered with. Turned inside out, and now _everything_ was in the _wrong place_! The lab table had been pushed against the opposite wall, and his test tubes were placed sporadically on a shelf beside it. His chemicals were no longer arranged according to color, but were placed in decorative little groups here and there about the room like so many corrosive flower arrangements.

He was going to _kill_ Nygma.

"Do you like it?" a voice behind the Master of Fear asked.

Jonathan turned slowly.

"Edward." he said softly.

"Yeah?" Eddie replied.

"Why is my lab table on the other side of the room?"

"Well, it can't be facing the door." Eddie said matter-of-factly. "That symbolizes death."

"_Does_ it?" Jonathan purred, leaning towards the Riddler. "Tell me, Eddie? How would _you_ like to symbolize death?"

Eddie gulped and took a step back. "You know, as fun as that sounds, I really gotta run….yoga classes don't take themselves, you know!"

And with that, the Riddler was gone, leaving Jonathan standing in his feng-shuied laboratory, dirt still trickling down his back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.**

Jonathan Crane sighed and stepped back to observe his handiwork.

Since the Prince of Puzzles had left, the Master of Fear had effectively unfeng-shuied his lab. He'd left the living room the way it was, however, with the small exception of moving the desk from the door. Because, though he would never admit it, the new arrangement _was_ kind of nice. He was just setting a few more beakers in order when the door to lair opened and Edward Nygma stumbled in, looking much the worse for wear. "Oooow…." he mumbled as he sank into a chair. Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you?"

The Riddler struggled to get a hand behind his head so he could massage his neck. "I really don't think I'm cut out for yoga…"

The Master of Fear smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah…"Eddie nodded miserably. "I'm not too flexible." Jonathan was about to make another snide remark, but the Riddler looked so pained, he thought better of it. Shaking his head exasperatedly, the Master of Fear went to the kitchen and poured Eddie a cup of coffee. Ignoring the Riddler's refusal, he pressed it towards him. "It may be bad for you, but you'll feel better for it." Eddie sighed and took the cup, draining it. "I'm gonna go lie down…" he said, painfully getting up. Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I _told_ you this whole 'healthy' thing was a bad idea…"

?X?X?X?X?X?X?X?X?

After the Riddler went to bed, Jonathan decided to turn in as well. It was getting late anyway and he was tired from rearranging the lair…again. Falling into bed, he fell asleep, only waking once under the same assumption from the night before that he'd heard a noise. Oh well, probably nothing….

X?X?X?X?X?X?X?X

The next morning, Jonathan went into the kitchen to find the Riddler, dressed in a brand new looking suit and eating a banana. The Master of Fear raised an eyebrow. "What's the occasion?" Eddie grinned.

"Well, I figured since I look so good, and I am now in great shape, I should go out a find someone who'll appreciate me a little more than _you_ do." Jonathan rolled his eyes. "You're going hunting for a girlfriend?"

"Something like that." Eddie conceded, brushing a miniscule piece of lint from his tie. "I'm surprised they're not hunting for _me_."

"Oh, yes. What a shocker." Jonathan replied dryly.

The Riddler nodded absentmindedly, "It is, isn't it? Anyhow, I'm going to leave now. Can't keep the ladies waiting, now can we?"

"Of _course_ not." said the Master of Fear, sarcasm practically dripping from his words. The Riddler grabbed his hat and cane before flinging the door open with a flourish.

"The women! They love me!"

**~Two Hours Later~**

"The women! They _hate_ me!" Eddie sobbed between spoonfuls of ice-cream. "Why do they hate me? I mean, who _wouldn't_ want some of this?" Jonathan Crane sighed and handed the Riddler a tissue. "It's alright, Eddie. I'm sure they don't _all_ hate you…"

"Yes they do!" the Prince of Puzzles exclaimed. "They do, and I know it!" The Master of Fear rolled his eyes and grabbed another tissue. "How do you _'know'_? Did they outright tell you?"

The Riddler paused his tirade, a spoonful of ice-cream half way to his mouth. "…no…" he sniffled finally.

"Well, there you go then!" Jonathan said triumphantly. "They don't _all_ hate you."

Eddie looked at him for a minute, his lower lip quivering. "B-b-but they might…and I just don't _knoooo-oooow!_" Abandoning his ice-cream, the Riddler put his head down on the table and wrapped his arms around it, shoulders shaking with melodramatic sobs. "I just wanted people to _like_ me…I dyed my hair…and got a facial…and learned feng-shui…and yoga…and I even ate those _stupid health foods_….and what have I got to show for it?" -He sat up-"Nothing! Nothing at all! Ohh…" -he put his head back down on his arms and looked disconsolately up at the Master of Fear. "What's the meaning of it all?"

Jonathan folded his arms and stared back at him. "'The meaning of it all' is that you've been trying to be something you're not, and that you need to stop and be yourself because if you don't you're going to end up like this for the rest of your life!"

Eddie blinked and stared dumfounded at Jonathan. "You think?"

"I _know._"

The Prince of Puzzles slowly sat up and wiped ice-cream of his cheek with the back of his hand. Then he looked at the Master of Fear and grinned. "You know something, Jonathan? You're right! Why was I trying to better myself when I'm already the best?"

The Scarecrow raised an eyebrow. "Well, I…"

"I'm great! Awesome! Why would I stoop to try to get 'better' when I _am_ the ultimate?"

"That's not…"

"Thanks, Jonathan!" Eddie exclaimed, throwing his arms around the Master of Fear and squeezing tightly.

Jonathan sighed and patted the Riddler's shoulder. "Yes, yes…_please_ let go of me."

Eddie grinned and let go. Jonathan got up and went to the refrigerator. "Now that _that's_ over with, I'm going to have lunch…hey, where's the rest of the pizza?"

The Riddler blinked innocently. "What pizza?"

"Eddie, there were five slices in here. Now there's only one, and I _know_ I didn't eat anymore. Where are they?"

Eddie tugged nervously at his collar. "Uuuuh…well….My…umm…healthy diet didn't really extend to after midnight…"

Jonathan smirked. So _that_ was what had woken him up the past few nights. Pulling out the plate, he offered the last piece to the Riddler. "Want it?"

Eddie grinned and accepted the pizza. "Thanks, Jonathan."

**Author's note: Well, folks, I do believe this is the end for this piece! Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D **


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